


Summer

by Neroro



Series: Journey [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bit of dirty talk, Blow Jobs, Bottom Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Building Relationship, M/M, Spanking, experimenting with dom/sub dynamics, lots of sex lots of character introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neroro/pseuds/Neroro
Summary: Roadhog stretches on the bed and listens to Junkrat's humming coming from the half open bathroom door, loud and a little raspy but homely nonetheless. He closes his eyes and sighs loudly through his nose, when did he begin to think of Junkrat, a filthy, noisy maniac half his age, as home? Whenever it was it definitely too fast for his liking, too soon after so many years alone.Still, he can't help the way he feels, it feels good to have a purpose, todo somethingagain.To be wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

They aren't on the evening news, good, Roadhog wants to get out of town without too much trouble for once. It's been weeks since that suit screwed them over and put the idea of an international crime spree into Junkrat's head. They've hit a few local banks on their way to the coast, gathering funds for ferry tickets and supplies that would be too troublesome to steal and now they just have to lay low and wait for the bi-monthly departure for Europe. Flying would be so much faster and easier but there's no way he'll leave his chopper behind.

Roadhog stretches on the bed and listens to Junkrat's humming coming from the half open bathroom door, loud and a little raspy but homely nonetheless. He closes his eyes and sighs loudly through his nose, when did he begin to think of Junkrat, a filthy, noisy maniac half his age, as home? Whenever it was it definitely too fast for his liking, too soon after so many years alone.

Still, he can't help the way he feels, it feels good to have a purpose, to _do something_ again.

To be wanted.

He runs a heavy hand over his mask. What has he gotten himself into?

"Oi, mate! A little help here?"

Roadhog makes a tired questioning sound.

"Grab my limbs, would ya?"

A grunt.

"Not gonna put 'em on just to move 'em to the bedroom."

"Get them later."

Junkrat emerges from the bathroom with a low grumble about his partner's laziness but stops after a few hops as he sees Roadhog on the bed, naked except for his mask.

Roadhog wonders if he's gone too far but if he's honest with himself he doesn't really care too much. This isn't the first time Junkrat has seen him without clothes, even outside of sex, plus the late Australian summer makes the cheap hotel room almost unbearably hot.

And, maybe a small part of him hoped that Junkrat would catch on, not that he'd ever tell him that. Roadhog turns his head and watches the tv again as Junkrat hops over and flops onto the bed, leg hanging off the foot end.

"Too bloody hot today!"

Roadhog makes a low agreeing sound and shifts a little more onto his side, away from Junkrat. He can't get the idea of sex out of his head, not since that morning when they hit the local grocery store for food and he nicked a tube of lube and a couple of different sizes of condoms. The need sits low and heavy in his stomach, insistent, hot and annoying, just like the person currently staring at his ass. Roadhog turns his head to look at him over his shoulder.

"What? Ya can't just lie around like that and expect me not to look."

Roadhog rolls back onto his back and looks to the ceiling.

"Wanna root?"

Junkrat's whole face lightens up as he takes in the question, scrambling up onto his knee and stump and looking down at Roadhog with a grin.

"Ya serious, mate? Thought the heat was doing a number an ya."

He asks but still his hand is already roaming, stroking up his stomach and finding one of his nipples, soft and puffy from the heat. Roadhog closes his eyes behind his mask.

"You do the work."

Junkrat inhales so quickly he almost chokes on it, breaking into a cackle as he wrestles off his underwear and crawls onto Roadhog's stomach.

"Hoggie, Roadie, I'll make it so good for ya." He leans down and sucks one of his nipples into his mouth, piercing and all, rubbing his half-hard dick against his gut and moaning a little. Roadhog sets a hand on Junkrat's head and rubs at his still-damp hair, stroking down his neck and protruding spine and back up again.

"What ya want, mate? A blowie? Or should I do that thing ya did last night, that was nice."

"Three days ago." Roadhog corrects him. He knows what he wants but doesn't want to ask for it.

"Check my pants, back pocket."

Junkrat reaches down and almost falls off but Roadhog holds him in place, after a few seconds he sits up with a sound of victory and a fist full of stolen goods that he dumps on Roadhog's chest. Roadhog grabs Junkrat's hand in one of his and looks it over, then pops open the lube with the other.

"Start with two," he rumbles and coats Junkrat's fingers in slick, "add a third after a minute or so."

Junkrat gives him a look he can't quite read, eyebrows raised high and eyes searching his mask before leaning forward a little and reaching behind himself, Roadhog grabs his arm a little harder than intended.

His eyes snap to Roadhog's lenses with unsettling precision and he lets go.

Words, Mako.

Roadhog sighs heavily and makes Junkrat scoot back with a hand to his hip, shifting and spreading his own legs a little when he's in the right position.

"Here."

He can feel his face heat up despite himself, not looking at Junkrat as he lets out one of those breathless laughs. Had it been anyone else he would have strangled him but he's figured by now that the guy can't help it.

Junkrat starts fingering his cleft and Roadhog does his best to lie back and relax and make it easy for him to get his fingers in.

It's been a while, to put it lightly. The last time he got on his back like this it was for someone thicker and more hairy than Junkrat, though probably around the same height and age. Back when his hair was black and he still had hope for humanity, before everything went to shit. Roadhog's breathing barely changes when Junkrat's fingers enter him but he still looks excited and proud, biting his lip to control his twitchy grin as he looks toward Roadhog's mask for feedback.

"Ever done this before?"

"Not in the clacker, I don't think."

Roadhog hums and spreads his thighs a little further apart, angles his hips better. "Need to get those deeper if you want this to go anywhere."

Junkrat grits his teeth. "Oi, I'm trying to be _considerate_." He gestures with his half arm, are his ears red? They look red. Roadhog huffs out a laugh.

"Just get the third in there."

Junkrat does and, okay, he feels that, his muscles clenching involuntarily, blood flowing south. He isn't hard yet but that's fine, his stamina isn't what it used to be. He can feel his cock lie hot and heavy against his thigh, rubbing against Junkrat's arm as he moves. Maybe he should have initiated a little more foreplay or at least had him smear some lube on his dick to make the contact smoother and more comfortable. He wonders if Junkrat ever had sex that wasn't in the streets or against a too thin bedroll before they met, quick and dirty just to feed a primal urge. Or to get food, he's seen that. He doesn't want to think about it.

"Hooley Dooley, yer burning up in here, mate."

"Shut up."

"Soft in all the right places." Junkrat plants little kisses on his gut while fingering him and Roadhog leaves him to it for a few minutes longer than necessary so he can get his own thoughts in order, just focus on the feeling of Junkrat and not on what this might mean for their partnership.

Roadhog sits up a little and pushes Junkrat back with a palm to his chest, not too hard, just enough for Roadhog to get a good look at what he's dealing with. He eyes Junkrat's leaking cock then rips open one of the boxes of condoms and fishes one out. The silver square is comically small in his hand and he has to carefully pinch a corner and tear the foil slowly so the latex won't rip. Junkrat is giggling and Roadhog bumps against him with his leg hard enough to make him sway sideways.

"Don't want to deal with clean-up after."

Junkrat nods and bites his lip, trying to stifle his tittering.

"You can roll this down yourself." Roadhog places the condom on Junkrat's glans and pinches the tip, waiting for him to extract his hand and roll it down before grabbing the lube again and squeezing a generous amount onto both their cocks.

Roadhog lays back and gets comfortable. He's not too fond of the teacher role he's had to take on for this but if he left it all to Junkrat he'd probably just be rutting against him and howling like a dingo as usual and he wants this to actually be satisfying for both of them. He closes his eyes and breathes deep as Junkrat pushes inside, lets his legs fall open to allow him to thrust and grind.

The room is hot and humid even with the window open and there's already a fresh, thin layer of sweat covering Junkrat's bony chest. Roadhog has been making the sheets damp pretty much since he got out of the shower and his entire head feels too hot, making him a little drowsy though it feels kind of nice, heavy and powerful and overheated. He can tell that Junkrat is trying to take it slow but his thrusts are fast and erratic, praise falling from his lips in between his pants and moans. He makes a sound of victory when he opens his eyes and sees Roadhog's fat, hard dick sandwiched between them and Roadhog flicks him in the ribs, annoyed.

"You look gorgeous like this, mate, a right beaut." Junkrat pants and leans back a little to watch his dick disappear into Roadhog, biting his lip and grinning.

"So good, Hoggie."

Roadhog snorts and turns his head to the side, slowly rolling his hips and bringing up a hand to tug on a nipple, the other grabbing at the sheets as Junkrat manages to thrust deep enough to brush against his prostate.

 _It was a hot day just like this when he'd asked the farmer two plots over if he could borrow his son to help fix the pig enclosure, and they_ had _been working on it for a while before Mako brought up the rumor that the guy was gay, which he had denied, stuttering and offended until Mako came out and told him that he was too._

_"Just thought I'd put that out there."_

_It didn't take long after that for Mako to be flat on his back against his own bedsheets, pressed down only because he let him, sweaty and hard and a little nervous, not that he'd ever tell the guy that he was his first. He knew what he wanted and when Mako wants something he gives it to himself, just like he'd given himself this land and this farm and this life far away from home at the meager age of twenty._

_He's big, in every sense of the word. That's why he wanted him. Height rivaling his own and arms thick with muscle, broad back and soft around the middle. Mako was smaller back then, just a little, still towering proudly over most people with his two meters even and broad frame. A big guy._ Just _a big guy. No one grows to his size anymore, everyone kept getting thinner and more frail, crushed by the environment while he just kept growing. No one has hands like his, or arms the size of tree trunks. They're good for crushing anyone who stands in his way._

_He calls him Mr. Rutledge despite being a few years older than him, praise falling from his lips as he thrusts into his tight heat. Thanking him. Mako thinks to himself that he probably isn't the only one having a first of some sort._

Junkrat is losing his rhythm, not that he had much to begin with. He's panting like a dog with his head thrown back and chin pointing to the ceiling, thrusting fast and shallow and baring his throat with a guttural groan.

"Hoggie... p-please."

Roadhog raises his hand and grabs Junkrat by the neck, tugging him closer and wrapping his hand around his windpipe. He watches Junkrat's eyes flutter closed, feels him try to swallow his saliva and take in a breath but all he manages is a broken moan as his hips jerk forward and his body shakes with the force of his orgasm.

Junkrat collapses onto Roadhog's stomach, panting hard and drooling on his tattoo, sucking in a shaky breath when Roadhog clenches around him.

"Crikey..."

Roadhog chuckles and puts a hand to Junkrat's head, pulls his hair enough to tilt his head back and let him see his face. Junkrat gives him a goofy smile and pats his hip, rubbing his face against his gut.

"Just give me a minute, mate."

Roadhog's hands find his nipples again, giving them a tug as he returns to watching the tv. The news is over and a drama series with a upbeat opening theme has taken over. The room has only gotten hotter from their fucking. He could really use some water.

"You really like that, don'tcha?"

Roadhog grunts and looks at Junkrat, taking hold of his piercings between his thumbs and index fingers and pulling them up, wiggling his eyebrows even though Junkrat can't see it. His employer laughs and sits up and rubs a hand over his own chest, looking down and giving one of his small brown nipples a pinch before he seems to remember what they were doing and sitting back to pull out of Roadhog. He tosses the used condom to the floor without tying it and scoots back so he can bend down and face Roadhog's groin.

"Hello beautiful."

"Just get on with it."

"Oi, remember who's the boss here." Junkrat kisses Roadhog's glans and fondles his heavy ballsack. "Big guy's getting impatient," he slips his tongue under the foreskin, "gotta be good to Roadie."

Junkrat rubs at Roadhog's hole and he sighs contently and tosses him the lube, taking a rumbling breath as he feels three slick fingers slide into him. Junkrat does his best to fit the fat cock into his mouth, already drooling and moaning a little at the fullness, sucking on the soft flesh and scraping a little with his teeth, careful enough that Roadhog hasn't stopped him yet.

Roadhog's moans are the best, when he lets go and gets into it, more of a deep humming than anything else, filling the room despite their low volume. Well, low by Roadhog standards, Roadhog's voice can be really loud when he wants it to be. He hasn't managed to make it loud with sex yet but he will someday, he's sure of it, but for now he's fine with the deep, content rumbles he makes whenever Junkrat curls his fingers and hollows his cheeks.

Junkrat pulls his fingers mostly out and adds his pinkie before pushing back inside, earning a tense grunt and a twitch of the hips from Roadhog. He pulls away for air and plants suckling kisses down the thick shaft in front of him, glancing up towards Roadhog's face but all he can see is dick and pubes and stomach. Oh well, this is nice too. Snug and warm and surrounded on three sides by walls of Roadhog.

He puts a bit of force behind his arm and his knuckles and half his palm slips right in. Roadhog groans sudden and loud and grabs the bedsheets and Junkrat grins and presses his fingers into that round thing he could barely rub properly before but now has well within his reach. He shifts and grinds himself against the sheets as he goes back to sucking on Roadhog's dick, hand stilling because multitasking is hard but he keeps the press of his fingers firm and that seems to be enough for Roadhog who moans enough for his voice to slip out a little instead of the breathy groany sounds he makes most of the time. He opens his mouth wider to take more of Roadhog's dick in, sinking down until the head hits his throat and makes water well up in his eyes and he has to pull back a little before going back down, further this time, up down up down, in out, back and forth. Repetition is good and keeps him focused, up the scrap pile and down again, up down, assembling bombs one two three four back to one again, all night until his hand stops shaking, scratch scratch scratch scratch the itchy skin to the tick tock of the clock, rules are boring unless he makes them.

Roadhog makes a lot of sounds, louder every time he goes down and pulls back up with a hard suck. Up down up down, gotta be good to Roadie when he lets Junkrat do all these fun things and makes nice noises for him, rub that thing inside that makes his breath hitch and his thighs tense and his hips push his dick further into Junkrat's throat. Roadhog's hand is on his head now, heavy warmth pressing down and his hips bucking up fast and hard and making Junkrat's vision swim as Roadhog's voice gets louder and louder and faster and faster and everything is hot and tense and muffled and amazing and he tries to swallow around Roadhog's fat, twitching cock as it fills him but he can't and it feels like everything's going to come out of his nose and ears and eyes until Roadhog pulls him off and he sucks in a wet, raspy breath, body tense and toes curling and fingers trying to grab at the sheets, Roadhog, anything but they aren't there, just half an arm bracing him against the bed as he shakes and his dick weeps onto the white linen except there isn't much left in him and it feels like he's wringing himself out but in a good way, everything white and hot and intense until it ebbs out and turns his bones into jelly.

Roadhog is still catching his breath as he sits up and checks on his boss, big hands turning him over so he can have a look at his wet face and heaving chest. Junkrat gives him a shaky grin and a thumbs up and Roadhog lays down again, spent, completely spent after such a long build-up. Seems like neither of them are moving for the next few hours.


	2. Chapter 2

Roadhog wakes with a start and a grunt. It's gotten dark outside and the temperature has dropped to a tolerable level, making his bare skin feel a little chilly. He sits up and looks at Junkrat, still asleep between his legs at the foot end of the bed. It must have been his sleep apnea that woke him then. 

He gets up, turns off the tv and closes the window before going to the bathroom and clicking the door shut. The cold water feels good on his face and down his parched throat, spilling down his chest a little because drinking neatly from plate-sized hands isn't easy. He dries off with a towel and looks at the mirror while still covering most of his face, his eyes are kind of nice, maybe, objectively, they used to be, used to have the same fire as Junkrat's. He tries smiling but it doesn't really reach. He goes back to drying off. 

He dumps their dirty clothes in the tub and fills it with lukewarm water so they can soak and cleans up between his legs before strapping his mask back on. He grabs Junkrat's prosthetics and goes back to the bedroom. It's quiet, but not silent like it is in the outback, muted late night traffic coming from the streets below and mosquitoes buzzing around the ceiling, Junkrat's nose whistling softly with each exhale. Roadhog puts the prosthetics on the floor by the bed before picking Junkrat up by his armpits and placing him down in a more conventional sleeping spot, earning him a confused, startled grunt as Junkrat twists around and his sleeping brain tries to figure out which way is which. 

"You were going to fall off the bed." 

Junkrat relaxes back into the sheets once he realizes it's safe and Roadhog lumbers to the other side of the bed, pulls the covers over them both and goes back to sleep.

\- 

It's early morning by the second time he wakes, the sun barely up and the world still quiet. Roadhog stretches on the bed and rolls onto his side, intending to go back to sleep when he registers Junkrat's low mumbling. He sits slowly and looks over at him, on the floor with papers and napkins spread out in front of him, naked, back bent at an angle that makes Roadhog's hurt just by looking at him. Junkrat's eyes flit to him, registers his presence without really seeing him before focusing on his plans again, categorizes him as not being a threat at the moment. There's a smear of blood under his nose, dry and crusted, arm striped red with ripped open mosquito bites. He's been at this for a while. 

In the months that Roadhog has known him, Junkrat's never slept a full night. Of course they were taking turns keeping watch while being pursued by Junkers through the outback so neither did Roadhog, but Junkrat was always up hours before he had to. Making explosives, catching food, retching his guts out, staring at the fire with wide eyes and a jittery leg, the state he'd find him in was always different. Normally Roadhog would leave him be, but they're leaving for the harbor in the afternoon and he needs Junkrat to be sharp in case someone comes after them. He stands from the bed, cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders before he puts on clean underwear and pants and fetches a few things from their bags. He sits down on the floor by Junkrat and nudges his arm with a water bottle. 

"Drink." 

Junkrat, surprisingly, takes it without any fuss though he doesn't open it right away. He's still not looking at Roadhog, eyes glued to the paper he's working on. It looks like a map of sorts, or a floor plan, there's notes scribbled around the edges and in the open books lying on the floor next to him. London travel guides. 

"How you spell security?" 

Roadhog grunts, he'd been spacing out a little trying to figure out what Junkrat's plan is. 

"S-e-c-u-r-i-t-y, you almost had it right." 

Junkrat scratches out his first attempt and adds the word in several places with arrows pointing to different rooms on the map. Roadhog has been wondering about his reading and writing skills and whether or not he knew more words than just his name. He seems to be doing alright, he can read the travel guides although it takes him a while to get through the blocks of text, slowly mouthing the words to himself. Roadhog wants to patch up the spots where he's scratched his scalp bloody. 

He sighs loudly. When did he start having feelings. Why. 

"Oi, not all of us went to a fancy school." 

Junkrat hunches in on himself a little. Is he being self-conscious? It doesn't fit him. Roadhog holds up his hands in front of him, palms forward. 

"I'm impressed, actually." 

Junkrat looks like he can't decide between being flattered and suspicious and settles on giving Roadhog a crooked grin before popping the cap of the bottle into his mouth and clamping down with his teeth so he can twist it open with one hand. He must have interpreted his sighing as impatience, which, to be honest, it is pretty often, but not this time. Roadhog wonders what Junkrat would be like if radiation hadn't cooked his brain. He's already brilliant and would probably be a downright mastermind if given proper education and a working memory, but maybe that's why he works so well, because he'd had to survive on his own, because particles and chemicals have hot wired his brain into something extraordinary. Roadhog resists the urge to run his fingers down Junkrat's protruding spine and screws open his bottle of dark nail polish instead, cracking his massive fingers before getting to work on repairing the chipped lacquer. 

Time passes in relative silence as Roadhog paints his nails and Junkrat works on his plan, well, as much silence as there can be with Junkrat in the room. He giggles to himself and adds a doodle of him and Roadhog outside the building on the paper then sits up straighter to look at the entirety of his work. He looks over at Roadhog shaking his hands to dry his nails and bites at his own, distracted. 

"Want me to do yours too?" 

Junkrat looks at his hand, ragged nails and bitten bloody cuticles, the sad remains of his old polish clinging stubbornly in uneven streaks. He shakes his head. 

"Nah mate, got the jitters." 

Roadhog gets started on his toes. 

"Remind me to do it on the ferry, then." 

Junkrat gives him an unsure look, goes back to his plan, looks at Roadhog again. Roadhog wonders if it's because he's being aware of his bad memory or if he's actually remembering, thinking back to the first and only time Roadhog had done his nails, hand held delicately in his huge one, heavy breath steady, head bowed low in concentration. They'd had a moment then, Junkrat must have felt it too, the crushing weight of intimacy, the sense of normalcy in a broken world. They hadn't talked about it. 

"Right." Junkrat nods and smoothes out the paper excessively. Roadhog screws the cap back on the polish. 

"What's the plan, boss?" 

Junkrat's hands stop and he grins wide enough to show off his molars, eyes finally locking onto the lenses of Roadhog's mask. 

"We're gonna steal the crown jewels, mate."


	3. Chapter 3

The ferry ride is uneventful. They splurged on the tickets and got a high-end cabin, they can afford it and there's no way they'd be able to lay low in a ten square meter room for almost a month without going stir crazy. There's no escaping the ship so they need to avoid drawing too much attention to themselves.

They order dinner in their room and eat it on the king sized bed, Roadhog sitting back against the headboard with his dumplings, samosas, stir fry and a heavy bowl of noodle soup, and Junkrat sitting at the foot of the bed hunched over his family-size pizza that he probably won't make it halfway through, facing the tv. Roadhog has taken off his mask, he trusts Junkrat not to turn around, he has to or he would never be able to get anything to eat, but he also knows he keeps his word when it comes to things like these. Junkrat lets him eat in peace and Roadhog doesn't comment on his odd tics and habits.

Junkrat puts his massive plate on the floor and slumps sideways, rubbing his stomach and watching the foreign soap opera that's on, dubbing it and making up his own absurd storyline while he waits for Roadhog to finish eating. He dozes off eventually, a rare occurrence, and Roadhog cleans up their plates and puts Junkrat's leftovers in the fridge before putting his mask back on and reclining on the bed to read his book. Laying low has been nice so far but he's started to get a little bored, itching to get back on his chopper. He's pretty impressed with Junkrat for not blowing anything up for weeks and managing to entertain himself with tv and sketching and wastebasket fires. Seems like he can behave himself as long as he has a goal in sight. Junkrat stirs and sits up, cursing as he rubs his eye with a hand covered in tomato sauce. He blinks hard and scratches his scalp and then his back before starting to detatch his peg leg.

"Gonna take a shower."

He dumps his metal limbs on the floor and hops over to the bathroom. Roadhog silently watches him go and waits for the water to turn on before he continues reading. It hasn't been that long since his last shower but bathrooms are usually the only place either of them can be alone, and as social and extroverted as Junkrat is he needs his space too, he supposes. He did spend years alone before they met, after all.

It's almost half an hour later when Junkrat emerges from the bathroom stark naked with hair sticking up more than usual and hops over to the bed as fast he can with a mantra of _hoghoghoghog_ under his breath, flops onto the mattress and sticks his hand in front of Roadhog's book.

"Do my nails, mate!"

Roadhog turns his head to look at him. Junkrat tries to suppress his laughing.

"Ya told me to remind you."

Roadhog thinks. Oh right, he did. Junkrat looks so proud to have remembered even though they've been on the ferry for weeks and the memory probably only returned to him just now.

"Alright."

He gets the file and the polish and settles back against the headboard again, taking hold of Junkrat's left hand. He files the uneven edges as smooth as possible but they're pretty bit down and he has to leave most of them alone. The hand is twitchy and Roadhog presses it to the swell of his gut, trapping it and making the fingers straighten and splay out before opening the polish and holding the small brush delicately between his massive fingers. Junkrat is quiet, focused on the beat of the pulse under his palm, the slow, heavy breath that makes Roadhog's belly rise and fall. Roadhog is aware of him looking at his face, thinking, studying. He's glad he's wearing his mask. He lets go of Junkrat's hand and puts the polish away on the nightstand, yawning behind worn leather. Junkrat looks up from where he was blowing on his nails.

"Ya tired, mate?"

Roadhog rumbles in affirmation and scratches the spot where Junkrat's hand was. He'll go to sleep after finishing this chapter.

Junkrat shuffles under the covers with his fingers splayed carefully on top.

"How much time left?"

"About a week."

"Too bloody long." Junkrat smells his nails and flexes his fingers, looking them over for a minute before shifting onto his side and facing the wall. Roadhog turns off the tv.

About ten minutes pass before Junkrat rolls over from where he was lying curled up on the other side of the bed, pulling along the thick duvet covering him and touching Roadhog's arm.

"Roadie..."

Roadhog grunts in acknowledgement but doesn't put his book down. Junkrat shifts closer, biting his lip and hand sliding down Roadhog's gut to try to get into his pants.

"Thought you were going to sleep."

Junkrat groans and rubs his face against his chest.

"Feel weird." He grinds against Roadhog's thigh. "C'mon Roadie let's root."

Roadhog mentally goes over the symptoms Junkrat has displayed in the past before being hitting a bad period healthwise. "Weird how?"

"Like I want ya to shove yer piggy up my clacker and pound me into the mattress." Junkrat snickers at his own vulgarity and Roadhog regrets worrying about him. Almost.

"If you're horny then go jerk off."

Junkrat's hand gives up and he grumbles and nibbles on the fatty tissue in front of him.

"C'mon, Roadie, c'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon, ya don't even have to..."

Roadhog grunts in question and looks down at him. Junkrat lets out a frustrated whine and sinks his teeth into Roadhog's chest, not enough to really hurt but enough to keep his attention. This is the point where Roadhog either has to shove him away and say no or put his book aside and indulge him.

"Don't even have to touch it or anything, just..."

Frustration is painted all over Junkrat's features, the tense shoulders and hunched back, the tone of his voice, the fist clenching the sheets. Frustration with Roadhog and with the world, frustration with himself too, probably. If he was just horny he'd have gone straight to rubbing off on him already. Roadhog sighs and slips a bookmark into his book.

"Can I try something?"

Junkrat shoots up and grins. "Yeah, yeah, anything, mate." He leans in to kiss the snout of Roadhog's mask but gets pushed away and his entire lower face is engulfed by a huge palm.

"Be quiet. Lay down on your back and stay still." Junkrat titters quietly and nods before pulling away. He lays down on top of the duvet and waits for all of three seconds before his hand starts stroking his abdomen.

"I said stay still. No touching."

Junkrat puts his hand back on the cover, arching his back impatiently. Roadhog picks his book back up and Junkrat squawks.

"Oi, what the hell, Hog! Think you can trick me, I'm not-"

Roadhog turns his head and stares at him. Or at least that's what it feels like, he can't tell with the mask there. Junkrat feels like rest of the night depends on what he does next and it goes straight to his dick.

"Behave."

He goes back to reading and Junkrat bites his lip but otherwise stays put. Roadhog glances at him with his snout still directed at the book, it's been a long time since he dabbled in something like this and back then he had taken on a different role. Junkrat seems unfamiliar with what is going on, but if he really disliked it he probably would have complained more or scampered off to take care of things himself. It looks like it takes all of Junkrat's willpower not to fidget but he does relatively well, except for his eyes darting from Roadhog's mask to his stomach to the window to the ceiling and the too deep breathing. Roadhog turns a page in his book.

"Takes nothing to get you going, you're like a dog." Junkrat closes his eyes and presses his legs together, whining a little. Roadhog feels charitable and lets it slip, he knows he's trying.

"Bet I could get you off just by looking at you, you'd like that wouldn't you? Showing off how depraved you are, how little it takes to make you squeal." Roadhog intentionally drops his voice lower at the last sentence and Junkrat groans and rolls onto his side with his back to Roadhog, palming his growing erection. Roadhog makes a show of sighing loudly before putting his book aside and leaning over Junkrat, one massive hand planted right in front of his face.

"You really need some discipline."

Junkrat bites his lip and nods, turning his head further into the pillow.

Well then.

Roadhog uses one hand to press Junkrat to the bed and onto his stomach while the other delivers a slap to his bony ass, hard enough to make him cry out and blood rush to the area. Roadhog rubs the red cheek while gauging his reaction and Junkrat looks at him over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes, raising his ass in anticipation.

"Quiet."

The next slap is softer but still enough to make Junkrat's breath shake and muscles tense. He does it again. And again, to the back of his thighs. Again, spreading him apart and slapping closer to the hole. Roadhog chuckles as his body gives a particularly strong twitch and Junkrat laughs along with him, though infinitely more high pitched and out of breath. He slaps him again. Junkrat is drooling into the pillow, eyes half open without looking at anything, closing them briefly at every hard slap to his ass. He loves chaos, lives to cause mayhem and get revenge but something about the steady rhythm of Roadhog's hand makes him forget it all for a while and just focus on the deep, heavy breathing above him instead. Roadhog. Massive and all-consuming. Steady. There's no cabin anymore, no bed, no money and no Australia, no Junkrat. No Jamison.

Just heat and pain and Roadhog.

The spanking has stopped and he's vaguely aware of movement behind him as Roadhog kills the reading light and shuffles around in the dark. There's hands on his hips pulling him toward the foot of the bed and thumbs digging into the sore flesh of his ass. Roadhog presses his pelvis down and he becomes acutely aware of his cock rubbing against the sheets, weepy and sensitive. The direct contact between his glans and the dry linen is borderline painful and he has to bite his arm to stop a whimper from escaping.

Roadhog sits down on the floor with a loud thump and Junkrat swears he can feel the bed shake. Hot, damp breath ghosts over his tingling skin before a warm tongue runs up the inside of his thighs and Junkrat titters, overwhelmed and trembling. Roadhog runs a soothing hand over one cheek and spreads them apart, Junkrat draws in a shaky breath.

Roadhog bites down on the sensitive skin where ass meets thigh and Junkrat groans loudly into the pillow, earning himself another slap to his abused skin. Roadhog pulls back and sits in the darkness where Junkrat can't see him, running a palm over the bulge in his pants.

"Told you to behave."

Junkrat whines lowly.

"Can't help it, mate." There's rustling as he buries his face in the pillow before tacking on a quiet 'I'm sorry' when Roadhog doesn't resume touching him.

Roadhog thumbs the head of his own cock, wishing he could see Junkrat come undone but turning on the lights would mean that he wouldn't be able to use his mouth. He should have just blindfolded him.

"I'll be on me best behavior."

Roadhog grunts and continues slowly jerking himself off, stretching out the time. Maybe he should have made him beg instead of being quiet, but then again that would have been too easy. Junkrat's breathing is deeper than normal, slow and heavy in contrast to his usual erratic rodent panting. Roadhog runs a hand up his calf so he won't be too surprised when he leans closer again.

"Be good."

He licks at Junkrat's taint and presses his thumbs into his meager ass cheeks again, plants sucking kisses on the underside of his balls, nibbles at bruising flesh, puts his mouth anywhere but where he really wants it. Junkrat jerks forward as Roadhog's teeth get close to breaking skin but otherwise stays put and lets him lick at the bite, stubble rubbing against and scratching at his upper thighs. Roadhog's jaw is starting to hurt a little but he continues licking and biting at Junkrat until he feels a foot trying to find purchase against his shoulder and a tired whimper hits his ears.

"I can't... Roadie..."

Roadhog pulls back and gets up with a groan, his knees and back not too happy about him sitting on the floor. He deftly straps his mask back on, his fingers know the routine, then turns on the small lamp on the bedside table. Junkrat's eyes are a little wet but he mostly just looks confused and kind of dazed, Roadhog crawls into bed and lays down on his side next to him.

"Easy."

He puts a hand on Junkrat's head and runs his thumb along an eyelid to wipe away the moisture. He wishes he was better with words so he could say what Junkrat needs to hear, but that level of emotional vulnerability is something he's not ready for. Junkrat shifts closer and Roadhog puts an arm around him and slowly strokes his back.

"Hooley dooley, Hog..."

Roadhog chuckles and relaxes into the bed as Junkrat comes back to himself, he feels tired again now that the play is over and would probably be dozing off if it wasn't for the half-hard dick between his legs and the other against his hip.

"Want me to take care of that?" He shifts his thigh against Junkrat's groin and puts a hand on his sore ass. Junkrat gives a half-hearted roll of his hips but quickly stops again and just lies with his head firmly planted on Roadhog's chest.

"Nah mate."

Roadhog grunts an affirmative and rolls onto his back, pulling Junkrat along to lie on top of him before covering them up to protect them from the bite of winter. Junkrat shimmies up and plants a kiss on the underside of his leather snout, a tired grin stretching against his stitched mouth.

"Thanks, Hog."

Roadhog pats Junkrat's ass in reply and exhales deeply to signal that he's going to get some sleep now. Deep down a small part of him wishes that he had given him the opportunity to thank Mako instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this series was meant to be in more and shorter installments but I changed my mind so now it's gonna be fewer, longer fics because I feel like that'll just be better and easier for everybody.


	4. Chapter 4

They stole the Crown Jewels. 

Junkrat cackles as they tear down the streets of London, loud and shrill and inhumane, yet it makes Roadhog feel more human than ever. Everything is a blur of light and colors, police sirens and blood pounding in his ears. Explosions. Junkrat will take care of everything as long as he keeps driving. 

They're out of London now, managed to shake the police but it's only a question of time before the helicopters spot them and they get taken in. Junkrat is shaking in the sidecar but he doesn't seem to be aware of it, manic smile plastered to his face as he stares straight ahead, breathing ragged. Junkrat has done his part, now it's time for Roadhog to do his. He slows down considerably and hands Junkrat the crown, scanning the suburban area they've just entered. They could take over any of the houses, but if the victims scream and alert the neighbors they'll have to get back on the road again. He spots a stuffed mailbox down the street and kills the chopper engine, gets off and pulls the bike to the hopefully empty residence. He stops at the driveway and looks down at Junkrat. 

"Be. Quiet."

Junkrat is present enough to nod and get out of the sidecar and follow Roadhog to the front door. Roadhog hides in the shadows, as tall and wild looking and ugly as Junkrat is, he's still less intimidating than him. He tells Junkrat to ring the doorbell, earning him a confused look. 

When did he start finding the way Junkrat hunches lower when surprised endearing? 

"Thought we were supposed to be quiet."

"Just do it. If they're home we'll find another place."

"Ain't no way to talk to your boss, tubby." Junkrat presses the doorbell and waits. Nothing happens. He presses it again. Junkrat grins. 

Roadhog pulls the chopper into the backyard and empties out their loot before hiding the bike the best he can with what he has available, his trusty tarp and some broken off tree branches, while Junkrat works on picking the lock and getting them inside. Being stealthy is dull and annoying but sometimes it's the better solution, he's running low on scrap and Junkrat hurt his arm in the heist and will need time to repair it and for the bruises on his upper arm to heal, not that they've ever let minor injuries stop them. Roadhog also isn't sure how Junkrat will handle the next few days. They've never pulled a heist this big before and they had a month-long dry spell just prior to it, he might need time to ground himself, maybe they should've just continued driving, he can't know, Junkrat never really talks about how he's feeling beyond complaining about being hungry or horny or tired. 

Junkrat gets the door open and they make their way inside and quickly scan all the rooms to make sure the house really is empty. Roadhog locks the door and Junkrat sets up a few traps to alert them in case anyone tries to open it. It's a typical suburban house; kitchen, living room, a bathroom and two kids rooms plus one for the parents. Roadhog checks the fridge while Junkrat drags all their loot to the bedroom, there isn't much but it seems like they'll be able to have breakfast tomorrow. He roots through the cabinets and finds the snack stash, letting out a quiet, triumphant grunt and pushing his mask up to stuff his mouth full of sweets and biscuits. He cracks open a beer to wash it down with but only makes it halfway through the can before he hears Junkrat holler loudly from the bedroom. Mako swallows and pulls his mask into place before lumbering down to the other end of the house to see what Junkrat is up to this time, he finds him spread out on the bed surrounded by their loot and dirty magazines, seems like he's found the husband's porn stash. 

"You're gonna wake the neighbors."

"Take a look at these!" Junkrat turns the magazine around and shows him a busty woman spread out across the pages, Roadhog grunts and starts rummaging through the closets to check out the clothing situation. 

"How do sheilas get anything done with those things on their chests?" Roadhog glances at Junkrat rubbing his own chest while flipping the pages with his mechanical hand, face tensing when he massages the always sore right side, a soft groan leaving him. Roadhog feels heat pool in his groin and he digs a little deeper into the closet. He hears the magazine being thrown to the floor and Junkrat shifting around on the sheets, tittering quietly as he gets out of his shorts, the rustle of paper bills and the soft clinking of jewelry, panting. 

"Oi, Roadie."

Junkrat is posing on the bed, grinning and displaying himself and his decorations, ornate necklaces splayed across his chest and the royal crown of the United Kingdom covering his dick. Roadhog chuckles and walks over. 

"Sheilas got you randy?"

Junkrat laughs. 

"Mate I've been randy since we left the Tower, I was just passin' time." 

Roadhog stands at the end of the bed and gives a thoughtful hum, picking up a thin gold necklace and running it through his fingers before lifting it in front of his face and taking a look at the orange-red gemstone attached to it. Junkrat mutters something and starts piling money onto himself. 

Roadhog slips the necklace on and climbs onto the bed at Junkrat's command, legs on either side of him. He knocks off the crown and reveals Junkrat's half-hard dick but he doesn't touch him, instead leaning down close to his face so his snout is only a few centimeters away. Junkrat bites his lip. 

"Whadya want, big guy?"

Roadhog grunts and rubs his belly against Junkrat's cock. Junkrat just grins and asks again. Roadhog huffs. 

"You."

"Ya want me?"

"Yeah."

Roadhog can feel his ears go warm with the admission and sits up a little to put distance between them. There's a very big difference between having sex to feed a physical urge and doing it because you _want_ someone, one specific person because you want to share something with them, him, Junkrat. Roadhog sits back and busies himself with Junkrat's thighs to distract from his own embarrassment. 

"What do _you_ want?"

It comes out without his permission, too soft, and he grinds his teeth together waiting for an answer. Junkrat's mouth stretches in a smile and he looks to the ceiling. 

"Everything."

Roadhog strokes his thighs and Junkrat inhales audibly. 

"I want the whole fucking world, Roadie."

Roadhog hums and runs his hands up Junkrat's sides, rubbing his chest and thumbing his nipples, making Junkrat close his eyes with a shaky sigh. 

"How bad do ya want me?"

 _More than anything_ , he catches himself thinking as he presses the snout of his mask to Junkrat's collarbone. He needs him and wants him and it feels horrible and wonderful and terrifying all at the same time, without him Roadhog is nothing but an empty husk, a machine with no purpose, muscle and leather and a scrap gun. Guilt with no chance of redemption. Junkrat squirms and arches beneath him and pushes a fistful of paper bills into Roadhog's hand. 

"How bad, Roadie?"

Roadhog pushes himself up and looks at the crumpled money in his palm, then at Junkrat's face. He looks a little unsure. 

"Buy me."

Roadhog takes a little too long to respond and Junkrat titters and looks away, unable to meet the lenses of his mask for once. Roadhog lifts his hand and lets the money fall onto Junkrat's pale chest, watching the rise and fall with each uneven breath. 

"That it?"

Roadhog grunts quietly, grabbing another fistful of money and pushing the bills into Junkrat's hand. 

"More."

He gathers all the money from the bed and lets it flutter down over Junkrat's body, covering him. Junkrat bites his lip and runs a hand through the notes. 

"Might be enough for a pash."

Roadhog leans down slowly and waits for Junkrat to lean up the rest of the way, chapped lips rubbing against his mask, tongue poking out to lick at the worn seams. 

"Ya taste bloody awful, mate."

"So do you."

Junkrat wraps his arms around Roadhog's thick neck and gives a roll of his hips as he continues mouthing at his snout. Soft sounds are leaving him and Roadhog finds himself parting his lips and pretend to kiss him back, much to his embarrassment, there's no way Junkrat didn't hear the wet smack from within the mask, not with the grin that's spreading across his face and the snicker leaving it. Roadhog huffs and presses his snout to Junkrat's neck. 

"I don't have enough."

Junkrat tilts his head back against the pillow and covers an eye with the back of his hand. Laughs nervously. 

"There ain't enough money in the world to buy you."

Junkrat blinks unevenly, realization washing over him. 

"...I bought _you_."

Roadhog shakes his head. 

"You bought protection. This has nothing to do with that."

Roadhog can't decipher the emotion that washes over Junkrat's face, so he keeps quiet and rubs slow circles into his sides while waiting for him to speak but Junkrat stays quiet, processing the feeling that's got his stomach in knots and his entire body feeling too hot. He just wanted to feel wanted, expensive, unobtainable after living his entire life as human garbage, something to be caught and tortured and killed for his treasure, nothing more than a dirty, disgusting treasure map, too mad for anyone to dare come close, but now Roadhog's gone and made it all... romantic. He squirms underneath Roadhog's weight and looks away to the side, stretching to display his neck and chest. 

"Can we get to the rootin' already?"

Roadhog presses his snout to Junkrat's exposed throat. 

"If you want." He rubs the leather against his cheek. "Can I ride you?" 

"Yeah... Fuck yeah, crush me, Roadie."

Roadhog hums and gets up to get the lube from their bag, then contemplates for a moment on how best to go about the preparations. His fingers are thicker than Junkrat's dick so there isn't much reason to him fingering himself, as much as he likes the idea of showing off for his partner and making him drool. He would probably do without prep but Junkrat is already way too keen on that idea and doesn't need the extra encouragement. He unbuckles his pants and lets them pool on the floor, takes off his harness, armor and boots, then lays down next to Junkrat and takes his hand, covering his flesh fingers in lube as he gets comfortable on his side. Roadhog bends one leg for easier access and Junkrat shifts down so he can reach, kissing and licking Roadhog's gut as he pushes two fingers into him. Roadhog exhales and runs a hand over the back of Junkrat's head. 

"Tired already, big guy?"

"'S been a long day."

Junkrat snickers against tattooed skin, then breaks into a all-out cackle that makes Roadhog stroke his back and let out a low chuckle himself. He still can't believe they managed to pull it off that heist. 

"I had fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks, boss."

Junkrat looks up at him and smiles wide, one of those smiles that make him look his age, stretched lips and soft eyes. Roadhog wants to look away, overwhelmed, but doesn't dare to and instead strokes the back of Junkrat's neck again, shifts his hips to redirect his focus. Junkrat pushes a third finger inside and nibbles on the skin of Roadhog's belly. 

"How much longer, Roadie?"

"How long does it take for you to get hard?"

"I am!"

Roadhog chuckles. 

"I can't ride that."

Junkrat groans and reaches down to stroke his dick, then titters a little and pulls his fingers out of Roadhog so he can use his left hand. 

"Just a tic, mate."

Roadhog rolls Junkrat onto his back and straddles his legs, watching. Junkrat pokes his tongue out, bites it, licks his lips, arches his back. Roadhog swats his hand away. 

"Didn't tell you to get yourself off."

The lube is cold as it hits the head of Junkrat's cock directly from the tube, running down the shaft and catching on the sparse pubic hair on his groin. Roadhog gets up on his knees and lets himself sink down onto Junkrat, supporting himself with his hands on the headboard. 

"Gorgeous, mate."

Roadhog smiles behind his mask and lifts himself up, then sinks back down slowly. He's tired, cold and worn out and could use something rough and fast to knock him out, they both could, but he has to consider Junkrat's low weight and narrow frame and not settle too heavily onto him. He rolls his hips, maybe he's getting too old for this, though Junkrat seems to be enjoying himself, bucking up into Roadhog and stroking his thighs, groaning and squirming, digging his foot and peg into the bed to get leverage to thrust. 

"So bloody gorgeous."

Roadhog leans forward and folds his arms across the headboard, resting his head on his forearms. Junkrat has been infatuated with him from day one, even despite how intimidated as he was at first, admired his strength and size, how he couldn't wrap around his girth anywhere. It's different now, they both know, something more, something else, something they haven't yet managed to define. Junkrat runs his hands up Roadhog's stomach and over his chest, careful with his prosthetic hand so the joints won't catch on the hairs, fingers finding his piercings and giving them a tug. Roadhog moans low in his throat, encouraging him, rolling his hips and tightening around Junkrat's cock and Junkrat laughs breathlessly and pinches Roadhog's nipples, rolls them between his fingers until they're hard and hot and sensitive. 

"Faster, piggy."

He pulls hard on the piercings and Roadhog jolts with a throaty gasp. Junkrat swears he could feel his fat cock jump against his stomach, dark and veiny and so, so thick. He would reach down and stroke it if he wasn't so busy playing with his chest. 

"Like havin' yer tits tugged dontcha?" Another tug and Roadhog moans again, sinks down harder and faster. "Like when it hurts."

"'S good."

"Wanna suck you off, gag on yer fat knob 'till I conk out." His metal hand finds Roadhog's thigh again while the other continues to roll and pinch his nipple, seeking purchase as his back arches and his breath catches in a high pitched moan. 

"M-Make ya squeal." He grins wide as he feels Roadhog tense up around him hearing his own words. "Root ya so hard ya... ah... ya can't- Roadie. Roadie, I wanna, let me-" Junkrat slaps Roadhog's thigh repeatedly until he lifts himself up and off him and lays down on his back, panting hard and stretching his legs. They were both getting close, but speed isn't Roadhog's strong suit and his knees were starting to hurt, so having Junkrat take over for the final sprint is a bit of a relief to be honest. Junkrat gets up with a little trouble, wobbling on the bed until he gets his hands in Roadhog's belly for support. 

"Did a real number on my hips, mate." He laughs sheepishly and lines himself up, pushes inside with a stuttering breath. Roadhog is warm all over, soft and tight inside, big and steady and rumbly, accepting what Junkrat has to give. He presses his forehead to Roadhog's tattoo, his own stomach in knots as he closes his eyes and starts thrusting, tongue poking out and licking the salty skin in front of him. 

Junkrat is noisy, every breath audible, soft groans and mutterings of praise as he fucks hard and fast, hands on Roadhog's hips for balance, the sucks and kisses soon turning into uncoordinated mouthing and drooling as he gets closer to the edge. Roadhog pats the sheets down, searching, then places something heavy on Junkrat's head that makes his hips lose their rhythm and he sits up with a crooked grin, out of breath as he runs his hand over the cold metal. 

"King Jamison Fawkes the first!" he leans his head back and laughs, thrusts deep enough to make Roadhog's fingers clench and grab the sheets. "And his duke, Roadhog."

Roadhog chuckles, the small thrill of learning Junkrat's real name overpowered by the fear that he will ask about his.

"Your Highness."

Junkrat whines and bucks his hips, pants harshly as Roadhog spreads his legs further apart. 

"Hog-" 

"Fill me up, boss."

Junkrat stutters and stills with a quiet keen, hunching over Roadhog as he spills himself inside him with small, involuntary thrusts before collapsing on his gut with a tired moan. Roadhog huffs another low laugh and Junkrat bites him weakly. 

"Ya cunt."

He tries to sound upset but can't hold back his snickering, placing soft, toothy kisses on the skin in front of him. Roadhog smirks behind his mask and clenches around Junkrat's softening dick, arching a little when Junkrat's hand wraps around his girth, fingers not quite meeting, gripping him tight. Junkrat licks his lips lazily and leans back enough to thrust shallowly into him and work his wrist until Roadhog comes undone with a loud groan, coming in thick pulses that covers Junkrat's hand and dribbles down his wrist. Roadhog sinks into the bed with a satisfied rumble while Junkrat licks the back of his hand to refresh his memory of the taste, slipping out of Roadhog and taking a look at his work, his fucked open hole and spent cock. He bends down and kisses the velvety skin, lets out a soft sigh and rubs his cheek against Roadhog's upper thigh, ready to settle down and pass out. 

"You're so good to me, Roadie."

Roadhog closes his legs around his head and Junkrat squawks and Roadhog laughs, loud and booming. Junkrat snickers into the heat of Roadhog's groin, escalating into a cackle when he is released and props himself up on his forearms on Roadhog's belly. 

"Ya think the Queen misses her fancy hat?" He balances the crown on Roadhog's chest and picks at the gems embedded in it. "Imagine all those rich cunts running around like headless chooks." He laughs and Roadhog chuckles, much wheezier than before. Junkrat sits up straight. 

"Ya need a can?"

Roadhog closes his eyes, rubs his chest. He hates how anxious Junkrat sounds. 

"Yeah... maybe."

It doesn't take Junkrat long to dig one out of their bags and press it to Roadhog's mask, yellow haze filling his head for a brief, wonderful moment. Junkrat pulls the canister away and holds it to his own face, hoping to get a whiff. Roadhog sinks into the bed with a long, relieved sigh. 

"Get some rest, big guy, I'll keep watch."

Roadhog pushes the riches off the bed and pulls the covers over himself. 

"This ain't the outback, you sleep too."

"Ah. Right."

Junkrat lays down, then gets up and closes the bedroom door and places a few traps around it. He takes off his prosthetics and crawls into bed and under the thick duvet with a quiet titter. Roadhog is already snoring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a while to get out because I was working on my thesis comic and had graduation coming up but now I'm all done and I've got my degree and will have a lot more time to write so hopefully the next chapter won't take quite as long. Hope you all like this series so far and thanks for your patience!
> 
> I also made a roadrat-only twitter for fic updates and sketches it's at https://twitter.com/NeroroRR


	5. Chapter 5

"Hog..."

Roadhog grunts and shifts but doesn't really wake until he registers labored breathing and feels a sticky hand grab at his arm. He sits up and looks around the dark room, heart hammering away despite the fact that he should be used to being woken up like this by now. Junkrat is next to him, whining quietly and searching for him in the darkness. Roadhog turns on the lamp sitting on the bedside table. 

It's just the two of them in there, that's the first thing he makes sure of. He takes a second to listen for any sounds coming from around the house but all he can pick up is Junkrat's breathing and rain hitting the bedroom window. He sits back heavily against the headboard and rubs a hand over his leather face, eyes sore with sleep and head aching with the need to drift back off. 

"Wh… I don't even know where..." 

The bitter titter leaving him makes it unclear whether he's talking to Roadhog or himself, he never knows when he drops into the middle of conversations like this, Roadhog isn't even sure Junkrat knows. He picks the crown up from the floor and places it in front of him on the bed. 

"We're in England. Stole this."

Junkrat reaches out to touch it but is distracted by the sight of his own bloody fingers, eyes wide as he pats himself down searching for injuries, stopping at the sight of his missing limbs. 

"Your nose is bleeding."

Junkrat curls in on himself with a quiet curse and smears the blood across his face with his arm, rakes his fingers through patchy hair, laughs. 

"You need to sit up, tilt your head forward."

Roadhog sighs lowly when Junkrat just slumps further. He should probably help him, he should feel like helping him, hold him, comfort him. He should, because he cares about him, but really he'd rather avoid this situation altogether. He stands from the bed, carefully moves Junkrat's traps and leaves the room, feeling guilty, shameful even as he searches the kitchen cabinets for over-the-counter painkillers and foods that Junkrat might be able to keep down. He should be helping, he _is_ helping but he should... he should instinctively _want_ to help, right? He goes to the sink and fills a glass with water. Mako is the same. He feels sick to his stomach at the thought of his humanity lacking the most human feeling of them all. Things were easier before he met Junkrat and he didn't have to think about these things, when his feelings were so deeply buried he didn't have to worry about the psychological impact his lack of compassion might have on others. He breathes deeply into his mask. Junkrat can't blame him, can't expect him to just suddenly feel things he's never felt before. He's doing what he can, right? If he truly didn't care he wouldn't be here in the kitchen, wouldn't worry about upsetting his partner with being who he is.

Junkrat has laid back down by the time Roadhog comes back, huddled up under the thick covers and rubbing at his ear as if it'll normalize the pressure that has no doubt been severely screwed up by now. Roadhog puts the glass of water, half a packet of bland biscuits and the painkillers, just a single dose because he isn't sure he can trust Junkrat's self control right now, on the night stand next to him. 

"Where did you go?"

"Kitchen."

Junkrat eyes the stuff Roadhog brought and shifts further into the pillow. 

"Where are we?"

"...England."

Junkrat blinks slowly then makes a small sound and looks up at him, pleading, like prey seeking pity, a lover craving comfort and Roadhog's stomach sinks as he meets his eyes, feeling vulnerable despite not being the one in pain and with a returning nosebleed that they probably really should have someone look at if they want to continue their world tour of mayhem and destruction as a duo. The seconds trickle by and Roadhog wishes Junkrat would just reach out so he doesn't have to, as unfair as that thought is, he should be the stronger one but right now he just feels weak with anxiety, like he'll do something wrong, hurt him, embarrass or give too much of himself. If Junkrat pulled him down he would give in, but doing it of his own volition feels like a insurmountable task. He can't stand looking at him any longer and he walks to the other side of the bed, just like when he had lost his limbs and laid there fever-ridden and weak. He'd tried to keep him hydrated and change his bandages when needed but wasn't able to provide much emotional support, doing what he had to to keep him alive but not much more. Somehow his initial screaming had been easier to handle than his near-silent suffering.

Roadhog lays down on the bed and sighs deeply, tries not to be annoyed when Junkrat starts rummaging through the drawers of the night stand on his side, noisy. He feels shameful, wrong for being intimate with him and then so cold when he really needs him. Roadhog can't help Mako. Mako can't help Roadhog. He needs Junkrat to guide him, take the initiative. He rolls onto his side, away, hoping to fall asleep soon so he won't have to think about this but Junkrat keeps him awake with his panting and shifting around, his gagging as he tries to get the painkillers down. Roadhog isn't sure how long he stays awake listening to Junkrat retching in the bathroom but he eventually shifts onto his back and drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep, hand stretched out palm up on the middle of the bed, a sorry excuse for consolation, a silent apology for his shortcomings. 

-

The bathtub doesn't exactly _fit_ Roadhog, but he's able to sit back and soak if he bends his legs and that's good enough. His mask is resting on the counter, inside wiped as dry and clean as he could get it. He sighs deeply, tired, and rubs shampoo into his wet hair and down his shoulders. He cranks up the heat and lets the warm water rinse him off, daydreaming about a house in the outback, an outback he hasn't destroyed, of living off the land, of being able to create rather than destroy. He's a monster, society has told him so, maybe he is, he should feel bad about hurting and killing other humans but he doesn't, he can't care if he doesn't know them. He doesn't like thinking about it. Mako used to care, felt sorrow for the lives they ruined, lives they set out to save and reclaim. There's nothing to save anymore, only more destruction to be made, revenge to be had. They should be locked away, go back to the empty wastes of the outback where there's nothing left to destroy but what's the fun in that. Is what they're doing really that much worse than money-hungry corporations ruining the lives of thousands, millions? 

It's all their fault. Roadhog was born from a broken world too cruel for Mako to understand, a world where artificial life is valued higher than real humans, where everyone takes and takes and takes. They're just doing the same thing, taking what they want, looking after their own interests without the cowardice that wealth allows. 

Roadhog is startled out of his thoughts when someone grabs the door handle and he rubs a heavy hand over his face as Junkrat starts pounding on the door. 

"What?"

"'bout to wet meself here, mate, open the bloody door!"

He'd tell him to go outside, but they're trying to be discreet and the neighbors might notice a two meters tall, naked criminal running around the backyard. Besides, he can see frost along the edges of the bathroom window and even Roadhog isn't that cruel. He makes sure he's hidden behind the curtain before he grabs the door handle and yanks the door open, wood splintering and screws falling noisily to the white tile. Junkrat crawls to the toilet with a strained 'thanks, mate', and Roadhog grunts in return and continues washing his back as well as he can in the too small space. 

The room is quiet aside from their breathing and Roadhog wonders what's taking Junkrat so long since he's obviously done pissing. He can hear him grab the counter and stand, then metal buckles moving against the marble. 

He's looking at his mask. Roadhog can't help but feel a little violated but also strangely curious and wishing he could somehow watch Junkrat run his fingers over his second face. What expression does he bear? Are his fingers loving or exploring? What thoughts does he have about the man hiding behind it? 

"If you're done then get out."

"I want a bath too."

"I'm almost done."

There's a pause, more clinking of buckles as Junkrat tries the mask on. 

"Feel like shit, mate... don't wanna be in there alone."

His voice is muted by the filters yet it has enough impact to make Roadhog's stomach churn. He sighs heavily, Junkrat can be a manipulative little shit but he did look genuinely sick the night before so he probably shouldn't be left alone in a tub full of water. 

"Give me my face."

He holds out a hand and Junkrat returns the mask to its owner then waits for him to finish putting it on. Roadhog pulls the curtain aside and looks down at Junkrat crouching by the edge of the tub, leaning forward to press his pale cheek against it. 

"Just a tic, mate." 

Junkrat sounds like he's either about to throw up or pass out or both and Roadhog waits patiently for him to pull himself up and start crawling in. Roadhog takes up most of the space so he ends up with almost all of Junkrat sprawled on top of him, clammy with sweat and his gaunt face pressed to his chest. It would be a comfortable weight, had his stomach not grown tight from the slightly awkward silence and the visible goose bumps on Junkrat's skin. A too warm tongue is run across his sternum and Roadhog puts a heavy hand on Junkrat's back, thumb running over the knobs of his spine. The precious few kilos he had managed to put on during the ferry ride have rattled right back off, ribs visible through his skin with every breath. Chapped lips move against his chest and the swell of his gut and Junkrat's breath shakes as Roadhog's hand finds its place at the back of his neck, gently rubbing sore muscles while twitchy fingers trail down past his groin and play with his rim, a strained giggle hitting his ears. 

"Still soft down here, are ya? Must've rooted ya pretty good."

Roadhog snorts and pulls Junkrat's hand away from his ass. 

"Been cleaning up your mess, don't flatter yourself."

Junkrat just laughs harder and presses himself to Roadhog's skin, tongue lapping at a slowly hardening nipple, rubbing his sweaty forehead against his hairy chest. 

"Jamison..."

He hates how unsure his voice sounds around the name but he swallows his anxieties and slowly peels Junkrat off of him and into a sitting position. He needs him to remember this.

"You don't have to do this every time I'm nice to you."

Junkrat squints against the headache he no doubt has and searches the dark lenses of his mask for a second before his mouth splits in a crooked grin, averting his eyes back to Roadhog's chest. 

"Could've fooled me, mate."

Roadhog exhales and leans back, his hand on Junkrat's back stilling, feeling half guilty, half pissed off that he's upset with him. He looks to the ceiling. Junkrat should have known what he signed up for when he hired the one man apocalypse. 

Junkrat is playing with his chest again, eyes downcast and shiny with fever. Roadhog continues washing him with careful soapy fingers to his concave stomach, stops Junkrat's hand when it starts exploring a little too much again. Junkrat giggles, but it's bitter and hurt and making Roadhog watch him carefully. 

"I'll never be as big as you... or get hair on me tits or..." he digs his fingers into his arm stump and folds over against another wave of nausea, "or get as old," he curls up against the swell of his gut. "Let me enjoy you."

"Stop that."

Junkrat curls further into himself and Roadhog strokes up between his shoulder blades, rests a heavy hand on the back of his neck. He exhales deeply, thumbs the too warm skin and starts untangling patchy hair. 

"I'm..." he moves his hand down his back again, afraid he'll rip out more strands than necessary. Junkrat peeks up at him from underneath heavy lids. "Stop trying to manipulate me." 

"Sorry, mate."

Roadhog hums in acknowledgement. 

"Meant what I said though." He picks a little at the coarse hair on Roadhog's chest. 

Roadhog gently rubs Junkrat's bruised arm and they fall into silence, tired and deep in their own heads. Maybe he's too harsh on him, masking his vulnerability with indifference. Yet his hands are warm and gentle, _trying_ despite knowing it's not enough, not everything Junkrat needs. He feels selfish but selfless, unable to break through the emotional barrier he's spent decades building, yet spending hours worrying about his partner without telling him. He takes the shower head and wets Junkrat's hair, avoiding getting the water too close to his face because he knows he doesn't take well to that.

"Last night... I'm sorry... I'm not good with these things..."

"What things?"

Roadhog leans his head back against the wall as he gently rubs shampoo into Junkrat's scalp. Junkrat sits up a little. 

"What things, Roadie?"

Roadhog sighs. 

"You need to rest."

Junkrat mashes his face back against Roadhog's chest and groans. Roadhog closes his eyes and wills his heart to stop pounding. 

 

"Mexico!"

Roadhog jolts out of his half-slumber, the water has cooled and Junkrat is littered in goosebumps as he lies on his stomach, eyes wide. 

"Mexico, mate."

"What about Mexico?"

"That sheila called. I mean someone called on one of the phones I snatched." He sits up with a slight groan, hand on Roadhog's arm for support. 

"When?"

"While ya were sleepin'. Not right now but like... last night? The loot was there."

"Okay. What did she say?"

"Wanted to team up for something... need us to rob a bank I think. I don't remember the details, she gave me a number."

"How did she call you?"

"On the phone, I said that."

"It's not our phone, how would she know what number to call? Why did you pick up in the first place?"

"I didn't!"

Roadhog grunts and starts getting out of the tub, this all sounds very weird and suspicious. Junkrat takes hold of his hand, weaker and more twitchy than usual and Roadhog stills. 

"Don't think I can get out by myself."

Massive hands pick him up and set him on the edge of the bathtub like he weighs nothing. 

"Okay." Roadhog hands him a towel, then starts drying himself off. "Some sheila called you about a bank heist in Mexico."

Junkrat nods. "A voice just started coming from the bag and I opened it to investigate and one of the phones was on and she was all 'I know you're awake, Rat' and I tried turning it off but it wouldn't so I ripped out the battery and looked for anything weird inside but I couldn't find anything and then one of the other ones started talking and she kept doing it until I broke all the phones and I… phones can't do that, right?"

"They can't, but they might have anyway. Why didn't you wake me?" 

"...Ya seemed angry."

Roadhog steps closer and lets Junkrat press his face to his belly, dries his hair as he laughs, tired, frustrated, scared. 

"How's your head?" Roadhog hates how hard it is to ask such simple questions. 

"About to combust."

"You should sleep."

Junkrat tenses and shakes his head. 

"We'll get something in you so you can rest." A bit of sugar-salt water should help with the shaking, might stabilize him enough to keep painkillers down. 

"Let's just leave, Hoggie let's get out of here."

Roadhog steps back a little so he can look at Junkrat. 

"Did she sound like trouble?"

"More like... work? Said it'd be beneficial for both of us but you know how that went last time." He laughs nervously again and Roadhog picks him up with a sigh. He moves them into the kitchen where he mixes sugar and a bit of salt into a glass of water and makes Junkrat drink it before handing him a couple of painkillers and watching him swallow them. 

"Can we leave now?"

"No. You'll figure out what to do after some rest."

Junkrat groans but doesn't protest further as Roadhog takes him to the bedroom and helps him get under the covers. He knows he needs to trust his partner in these situations. 

"Ya just wanna sleep more yourself, ya lazy cunt."

Roadhog presses the heel of his hand to Junkrat's burning forehead, making him look at him. 

"Sleep. I'll keep watch."

Junkrat's eyes go a little unfocused before his eyebrows furrow slightly and he worries his lip with his teeth, looking uncertain as Roadhog runs a thumb over his forehead. 

"I'll keep watch." 

I'm here. 

I'll protect you. 

You're safe. 

He knows he might not make it to forty, yet Junkrat can't help the slight smile on his lips as he curls up against Roadhog's side, a steady hand on his knobbly back, rumbly breath lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this time! Hope everyone had an enjoyable read.
> 
> There will be more installments in this series but for now I want to focus on other fics for a while. 'Fall' will probably be out sometime well... this fall :)
> 
> Thank you all for the encouraging comments, they really helped motivate me to get this finished. 
> 
> Fic updates and sketches at https://twitter.com/NeroroRR


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